


yuri is even more done with everyone than previously believed

by thankyouforexisting



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Clothes, Crack, Drabble, Fluff, He is the only one who thinks it's embarrassing, Humour, Kinda?, M/M, Wedding, Yuri wears a dress, getting married, im sorry, just making myself feel better after episode 11, this is really short and it sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouforexisting/pseuds/thankyouforexisting
Summary: There are things Yuri isn’t proud of, regardless of how superior to everyone else he is. Few things, of course, but still there nonetheless, though he loathes exposing them. One of his regrets might be, for example, not reading the summary of Fifty Shades of Grey before his mom mentioned off-handedly, “We should watch it, Yura.” (He can never look at her in the same way again.)Going out for Victor’s “ exciting stag night” (which is a terrible name for it, as it mostly consisted in him sitting down and watching skaters get progressively drunker as they tried to do jumps off ice on the corner of a busy street, while everyone stared) and allowing himself to be roped into a hopeless bet has just become his newest, most fresh regret.





	

**Author's Note:**

> um. this has no excuse. my friend nadia drew yurio in a dress and i...needed. i wrote this a few days ago, and I'm editing and posting now to give myself a breather during finals. sighs.

There are things Yuri isn’t proud of, regardless of how superior to everyone else he is. Few things, of course, but still there nonetheless, though he loathes exposing them. One of his regrets might be, for example, not reading the summary of  _ Fifty Shades of Grey _ before his mom mentioned off-handedly, “We should watch it, Yura.” (He can never look at her in the same way again.)

 

Going out for Victor’s “stag night” (which is a terrible name for it, as it mostly consisted in him watching skaters get progressively drunker as they tried to do jumps off ice on the corner of a busy street, while everyone stared) and allowing himself to be roped into a hopeless bet has just become his newest, most fresh regret.

 

Yuri is never,  _ ever _ letting Victor have his way with him away. He’s not even sure he was completely conscious of his own actions before this happened, because he likes to believe he’s a pretty smart guy, and letting Hurricane Queer Victor dress him is about as stupid as the belief that animal patterns will ever go out of fashion.

 

“This is the worst day of my life,” Yuri whispers, feeling the will to live escaping his soul, slowly but steadily. He is _ not _ going out there with  _ this _ on, no matter how much Gay Ice Prince begs him to, fluttering his eyelashes at him, as if he’s one of his brainless fans.  _ Please _ .

 

The door to the hotel room opens suddenly, and Yuri whirls around, feeling his cheeks heat at the intrusion but standing his ground, narrowing his eyes. He may be wearing the most horrible thing to ever see the light since the beginning of the fashion industry, but damn if he’s going to show how utterly humiliated it makes him feel.  _ Fuck _ sincere feelings and emotions.

 

“ _ Nikiforov _ ,” he starts, glowering.

 

“Oh,” Yuuri Katsuki, husband-to-be, blinks before him, clad in his new, not-as-dreadful-as-it could-be suit. He’s frozen still, one foot in Yuri’s room, expression disturbingly neutral as he takes in the sight before him. 

 

Yuri glares at him, “I can kill you with my bare hands, Katsuki, don’t you dare comment on it. Fuck off so I can change, I have no idea what your fiancé slipped into my drink last night. You should keep him on a leash.”

 

“Victor wouldn’t drug you,” Yuuri says, almost automatically, “You probably just had too many sweets, you know you get too excited and start messing around, and then Otabek has to take you home on his bike, and you throw up -”

 

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Yuri hisses, feeling his ears go read embarrassingly, shuffling his feet awkwardly until he’s able to slap his hands over the idiot’s mouth, cutting off his  _ spiral of lies _ . “Just -  _ stop _ , asshole.”

 

Gently, _ too _ gently, Yuuri smiles under his skin, putting his hands over Yuri’s and carefully separating them from his mouth, his eyes shining brightly. God, people in love are disgusting. 

 

“I really like it I think it suits you,” Yuuri tells him, honest and hopeful, looking so kind-hearted and innocent that one wouldn’t be able to guess the guy’s able to spin around a stripper pole like a professional. “It would make me really happy if you wore it. You’d be the perfect flower boy.”

 

Silence.

 

Yuri looks at Yuuri. He’s still beaming at him.

 

Fuck.

 

Yuri lowers his head in defeat, trying to burn through the wooden floor with the power of his glower, and mutters, frowning as hard as he can, “ _ Fine _ , you jerk. I won’t change. Now,  _ get out,  _ before I survive my moment of weakness and finally strangle you to death like I should’ve done from the beginning. Karl Marx would be ashamed of me for not seizing this chance to start a revolution.”

 

…

 

The second Yuri steps out into the garden, wincing just at the thought of being outside with this…  _ abomination _ , on his body, Victor lets out the most delighted and excited squeak he’s ever heard in his life.

 

“If you say  _ one _ word,” Yuri threatens him, putting as much aggression into his voice as he can, making sure he gets across that it’s a  _ promise _ , so he can scare the fucker, “I’ll fucking sue you, then I’ll kill you. And then I’ll keep the dog.”

 

“Not the dog!” Victor cries out in despair, clutching his poodle to his chest protectively, inching towards his fiancé and pouting. It’s so dramatic that Yuri even wonders, for a moment, if there are actual tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.

 

“I’m  _ so _ Instagramming this,” Phichit whispers to his left. Yuri mentally reminds himself to murder him by roasting him over a fire and then devouring his body shamelessly, posting up a pic with #WhatIHaveForDinner on his account, just out of spite. He wonders if Yuuri would be really mad if he killed the best man right before the ceremony.

 

But, ugh, despite how much he wants to, he can’t really blame the guy. If it was  _ anyone _ other than him in this situation, he’d have already sold the pictures to seven different figure skating forums. 

 

Yuri is wearing… a dress.

 

It’s not just a simple dress, either (he could have lived with that; dresses are pretty comfortable for lounging around his bedroom in the summer, and Mila always has some old ones he can steal, which um, he totally doesn’t). It’s one of those awful, fluffy, frilly,  _ unbearably scratchy _ pomp-and-circumstance, asphyxiating gowns that flower girls wear at weddings, complete with a tightly bound pink lace bow at one side of his waist. If that wasn’t enough, it even comes with its own fucking  _ flower basket _ , as if it’s a costume set for Halloween (he wouldn’t have trouble believing it, given how terrifying it is to look at himself in the mirror right now), and trademark Yurio’s Angels cat ears (the stuff of nightmares.  _ They haunt him _ .) with fake roses on the tip of the ears. No, they weren’t satisfied with simply degrading  _ him _ .

 

They had to go for his  _ cats _ , too.

 

“You’re adorable, Yuri,” Chris smirks from where he’s standing outside the hotel, crossing his arms over his chest and winking mischievously. His boyfriend is glancing around, trying to get a taxi. “The true picture of innocence, right before our eyes.”

 

“I’ll give you  _ innocence _ , you filthy, sexually depraved rodent -!”   
  
“Please, children, settle down,” Victor tuts, bringing a finger to his lips and smiling angelically. 

 

Naturally, in a way that Yuri’s finally gotten used to after countless months of seeing it out of the periphery of his vision, he takes Yuuri’s hand in his, pausing for a moment to rub his fingers over his fiancé’s knuckles, eyes fixed on his. Once a few unending seconds of sappy staring at each other (during which Yuri loses at least ten years of his life), Victor lifts Yuuri’s hand until he brushes the golden ring with his lips, his expression so obviously affectionate that Yuri wants to throw up several times. Yuuri, on the other hand, is eating it up like the cheesy fucker he is, gazing up at Victor with his big ol’ heart eyes (they always fucking  _ work _ , how the living  _ hell _ -),  and blushing furiously.

 

“After all,” Victor murmurs, intimate yet loud enough that everyone can hear, “We’ve got a wedding to go to, don’t we?”

 

…

 

Otabek steps into the church, five minutes late, to see Yuri casually making his way to where Yuuko’s sitting, picking up his skirt  _ just slightly _ , and promptly walks into the nearest pillar, hitting his head, ending up sprawled on the floor without moving.

 

“Do you think he’s alright?” Yuuko asks him, biting her lower lip worriedly. She’s such a  _ mom _ , honestly.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Yuri preens, smug, not even caring that he’s pretty damn sure he’s flushing. “He’s fine.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


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